Small Figures in a Vast Expanse
by calendaes
Summary: The summer after graduation. One motorcycle with sidecar. Two guys. Total freedom.
1. Chapter 1

**Title**: Small Figures in a Vast Expanse

**Pairing**: Ryan, Seth mostly gen

**Written for**: The 2nd OC Sentence Fic Challenge

**Sentence:** Ryan and Seth decide to "find themselves" on a cross-country motorcycle trip

**Author's note**: This isn't finished yet but it will be finished by Monday. Unless it spirals out of control.

---

"Route 66, dude. Come on, work with me. It's time for the Seth/Ryan show to go national. Have we learned nothing from the last two summers? Separation is not our natural state. Therein lies badness. So…"

Ryan waited for Seth to come back from the corner he'd gestured himself into. "So…"

"You and me and the open road, buddy. Wind in our hair and jaunty scarves trailing behind us." Pointed glare from Ryan. "Right. No scarves for you. But I guarantee you'll be jealous when my road-worn scarf brings me all the roadside chicks. Which could be a bad thing…"

Ryan settled back on the poolhouse bed for the long haul; this wasn't the first time Seth had tried to convince him to take the "ultimate post-high school, pre-college, no parents, no girlfriends, no drama except what we make, freedom from fiscal responsibility, trip to end all trips." Since they'd ordered their graduation announcements, Seth'd been in the poolhouse every night, talking about Thailand or Costa Rica or eurailing it through Eastern Europe.

"…and eat pie in a building shaped like a duck and see the world's largest piece of carved turquoise. See the real America, Ryan." Seth paused and sat down on the bed, looking to Ryan for response.

Ryan considered things, weighing the possibility of Seth quitting with the friendly "persuasion" if he gave in against the possibility of Kirsten and Sandy actually saying yes to this cross-country bike trip.

"Sounds great, dude. But just where do you plan to get the money for these bikes?" _ And how do you expect to convince your parents to let us go_

"Oh Ryan. So naïve. Those graduation announcements Mom is making us send out to every person we've ever met? Three words for you, my friend. Road. Trip. Money."

--

"Seth, are you sure you want to do this? Summer didn't look too happy last night."

That much was true. Summer had sneered and scoffed at Harbor's Graduation Casino night. Or rather, she'd pouted while Seth was watching but Ryan had seen her face fall when Seth turned to the roulette table. She was just as lost as the rest of them. Ryan knew the feeling.

He was 18 and the Cohens weren't his guardians anymore. He wasn't exactly sure what they were, besides there. He knew he loved them and during the before breakfast banter or the sporadic family dinners he was sure that they loved him too. But he'd be going off to college in Chicago soon and what you don't see, you don't miss.

"Hello? Do the words "already have bike and pestered the parents into submission" mean i anything /i to you? The wheels have been set in motion and it will take a natural disaster to stop this convoy, my friend. Keep on truckin' is the motto for this summer. The theme, if you will. Although we should probably substitute the truckin' for motorcycle with sidecarin' which loses the cool factor, don't you think? But what the Kirsten wants, the Kirsten gets. And what—"

"Seth. Breathe." Ryan grinned as Seth sat down on the pier bench. "It's going to be great. I just wanted to make sure this was what you wanted to do. It's not like Newport out there. No 4 star hotels, no beach." It's a lousy last-ditch effort, but Ryan has to try. Can't seem too eager, even though some of Seth's enthusiasm had rubbed off on him over the last few weeks. Especially after he saw the bike their pooled graduation money would buy them.

"Yeah. I really do. We're going to find ourselves out here, Ryan. I can feel it in my bones." Seth stood up and pulled out a white silk scarf. "You thought I was kidding about the scarf, didn't you?"

Ryan scoffed quietly, the grin stretching from ear to ear. "No, actually. I was pretty sure you weren't. Come on." Ryan nudged his head in the direction of the sidecar. "No more sentimental goodbyes. Got enough of that in Newport."

"Dude, come on. We both got our licenses. Let me take the first leg." Seth whined and grabbed at the handlebars.

"Well, _ dude _ , I promised Kirsten I'd drive while we were in the city. And like you said, what the Kirsten wants, the Kirsten gets." Ryan straddled the seat and sat back,

"This is so not cool." Seth pouted as he walked over to the sidecar. "You know what they call this?"

"Yes, Seth. I saw that movie too. You only made me watch it 15 times."

"Shut up. You know you loved it. And Natalie Portman is hot. i Garden State /i is awesome." He climbed in and pulled on the helmet, another of Kirsten's conditions. "I can't believe you're making me sit in the bitch seat. This is cruel even for you."

Ryan couldn't help but laugh at Seth's scowl. "Whatever, bitch."

The roar of the engine drowned out Seth's protests as they took off from Santa Monica down route 66.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Not mine. Writing for fun.

* * *

On day two, Ryan had to put his foot down.

They hadn't even made it to the state line yet. Seth's insistence on stopping at every time he spied something that could possibly be considered a roadside attraction, brought the pace to a standstill. Ryan figured he hit his limit when Seth grabbed his leg, the agreed upon signal for "stop this bike, I've got something to show you," and proceeded to flail about this rock that Seth thought could possibly be, if you squinted and covered one eye, an exact replica of the Summer Breeze.

Great.

It wasn't so much the rock, the giant plaster dinosaurs, or the strangely intricate folk art. That stuff was actually pretty cool and that rock totally did look a little like the Summer Breeze. Almost scarily so. Freaky. It was more the fact that they couldn't go more than 20 minutes without stopping.

Ryan reached this weird state of calm, the wind roaring past his ears, the bike vibrating through the soles of his feet, the fields and gas stations passing in a blur through the corner of his eye, where those nagging doubts were pushed to the background and it was just him, Seth and the road ahead. At least until Seth would make them stop again. Every time they stopped, it was a little more difficult to get to that place again.

At the next diner, over pancakes and a rather dubious plate of eggs served by a honest-to-goodness waitress named Flo, Ryan tried to think of the best way to explain it to Seth. Honestly, he wasn't sure Seth would understand the whole stillness thing.

"Flo? If you get a chance I could use some more coffee. Oh, and pie. You have a special pie, right? Best in three counties or something like that. That's the pie I want. Oh, and some orange juice. Thanks, Flo." Seth gestured at the waitress with a fork full of runny eggs. She sighed and rolled her eyes as she went for the coffee, obviously too old for this crap.

"Seth?" Ryan put down his cup of coffee and stared at a stain on the counter next to his plate.

"Yeah?" Seth closed his mouth and swallowed. "Wait? There aren't any bugs in my teeth, are there?" He picked up his napkin and scrubbed at his front teeth. "Ugh. There must have been, right? Because there had to be some reason Flo was giving me the evil eye. Besides me being my charming self."

Ryan sighed and pushed his pancakes around the plate.

"Do you think Flo would mind if I got a picture? Or would that be too weird. I mean, it's not like I know here. And how about that rock? If the Summer Breeze is out there in rock form, a full-blown granite Summer has got to be somewhere in this great big country of ours." Seth dropped his fork and threw his hands up. "Dude! What if there's a rock everybody out there. Like slate Ryan and limestone Seth. Just sitting out there waiting for us—"

"Seth!" A few heads popped up from the booths around them at Ryan's sharp outburst. He dropped his voice to a whisper at Seth's shocked appearance. "Seth. Slow down. We've got 1200 miles of insanity left, okay? Can we just slow down and enjoy the ride?"

Flo set down the pie and coffee in front of Seth as he stammered for a response. She snapped her gum as she handed the bill to Ryan. Seth grabbed the coffee and closed his mouth.

"Seth? I'm just saying that we don't have to stop at every rock or iron tree sculpture. And maybe ride for more than just 20 minutes a stretch."

"You don't want to be here." Seth stated quietly as he stared at his pie. "You never wanted to be here."

"No. I do. I really do. It's just that…Seth, you know how you get after the first hour of the ninja game? That whole zone thing you were explaining to me?" Ryan struggled for the words and Seth nodded slowly. "I really like riding. It's like I don't have to think. About college or the past or what I'm going to do about Marissa and I can just ride."

Seth turned on his stool, a grin spreading across his face. "Ryan. That's kind of awesome."

Ryan's mouth twitched into a half smile. "Yeah. It is." He dropped a twenty under the bill and stood up. "Which is why you're not getting out of the bitch seat." He turned and started out of the diner with Seth fallowing a few steps behind.

"No way! That is so not cool. I've changed my mind, Ryan. This whole Zen thing, it's a bad idea. Very bad. Not good at all."

Ryan slung a leg over the bike and smiled as he kick-started the bike, ignoring Seth's protests as the roar of the engine drowned them out.

It was dark when they pulled into the motel. Seth had made the reservations more than a month ago, promising Ryan kitsch perfection.

* * *

He had been totally right.

The teepees had poked their way up out of nowhere in the Arizona horizon half an hour before they actually pulled up to the manager's office. Which they were currently standing in while Seth argued with the manager.

"I made these reservations a month ago and asked for a room with two double beds. What happened to service?"

"I'm sorry sir, we had to give away your room when you didn't arrive by 6:00. It's stated on the website in bold flashing letters. I have one room left, a smoking room with a king-sized bed. Now you can take that or drive another 50 miles to the next Holiday Inn. What's it going to be, kid?" The old man peered over the counter and pushed his glasses back with his gnarled knuckle.

Ryan nudged Seth out of the way and pulled out his credit card. "Sorry, sir. We'll take the room. Do you have any foldaway beds?"

The man took the credit card and started their bill. "No. I'm afraid we've got a full house and lots of families this week. Don't have so much as a spare blanket tonight. But you've got a nice room. Only one neighbor and there's a good view of the pool." He pushed the slip over for Ryan to sign and grabbed a set of keys. "You have a good stay at the Wigwam Motel, boys."

* * *

Ryan was on the bed with an arm flung over his eyes and he felt the bed shift and a freshly showered Seth pull the covers over to his side. Ryan turned over and switched off the light. "Night, Seth."

"Night." Seth cleared his throat and burrowed into the bed, finally settling in the groove of the worn mattress.

Ryan let his mind wander through the past four days, filtering through the blur of roads and filing away memories of Seth in front of that giant dinosaur and how Seth'd gotten him to wear an Indian headdress in the general store after they crossed the state line. That was one picture not seeing the light of day, upon pain of death. Ryan drifted, everything blending together into nothing, right on the edge of sleep.

Not going to happen.

Whispers. "Ryan. Ryan. Hey. Ryan. You awake." Seth poked Ryan's shoulder. "Ryan. Can you sleep? Huh?"

Ryan flung an arm behind him. "Be quiet. Sleeping."

"Ah, you are awake. And ow. Ryan, we're sleeping in a fricking teepee. Dude, this is so awesome."

Exasperated sigh. "Yes. It's pretty cool. Now shut up." Silence. Good.

"Ryan." Seth barely breathed the next words. "Why do you have to go all the way to Chicago?" Silence again.

Ryan's eyes opened in the dark and he rubbed a hand over his face, but he couldn't answer.


End file.
